Little Harls
by Thatsaporkpie
Summary: After suffering a blow to the head from The Batman, combined with Joker shocking her, Harley's brain takes a sudden transformation. Joker learns that with the severe trauma she suffered, her mind has reverted to a 5-7 year old. Can Joker ever get Harley back to the way she was? Or will he be forced to have to indulge a little Harley forever? My first story about J/H, pls be kind.
1. Chapter 1

**Firstly, I own nothing to do with Suicide Squad or its characters. I just loved the film so much and have been hesitating on trying to write a fic on Harley and Joker. I haven't written a fanfiction on here for a while or have even felt motivated to update, but after watching the film, I fell in love with Harley and Joker.**

 **This is going to be a bit different so I would love to know what you think. :) Feedback is welcome on what you think of the story line or if its something a bit too ridiculous. I would love to know.**

 _Little Harls_

Joker sat at his club on the white couch, watching over how business was running while his henchman Frost stood behind him. He looked towards where a female dancer was currently working the room, swaying her hips in a deliberate move in order to attract more attention from the males. One hand was on her hips, the other sweeping her dark brown hair back over one side of her head. He sighed loudly, bringing up both legs to lean his feet on the table, arching back into the cushioned chair. Usually Harley was the main girl who did all the dancing, but that couldn't happen tonight and Frost had to call in back-up.

Late last night, while cruising around in the purple Jokermobile for their usual joyride, The Batman had decided to play along at the last minute and be the third wheel. Everything had been going fun and smoothly, up until Harley had decided to climb out of the car with her gun. He still got angry at the vivid memory of what Batman had done to his girl. The way she had whipped the gun towards him, only for the Bat to strike suddenly with full force.

He'd hit Harley to the side of the head with a long swinging side-kick. Joker could still see how her knees had buckled over the full impact of the blow, how his girl had staggered a fair distance away, her fingers dropping the gun only for her to lift both hands up, resting them on the side of her head where the Bat had kicked her. Her teeth had been gritted tight, her face scrunched in pain.

Usually The Joker wouldn't have put up with anyone daring to hurt or disrespect his girl, but it was the Bat and, though he loathed him and considered him his one true enemy, The Joker also got a hell of a kick out of battling with him and irritating the Bat every time he and Harley set out on a mission with Gotham, New Jersey, as their playground, their wrecking ball.

Harley had complained all last night about headaches and even a few painkillers hadn't seemed enough to stop her constant whining. She hadn't even been her usual self last night; She didn't laugh or smile, she simply had wanted to go straight into the bedroom. He'd watched her go straight in, her face set in a permanent scowl of pain while she drew the blinds shut so it was completely dark with no light in to make her headache worse. She'd shut herself in all night until the late hours of the morning.

When he had woken that morning, getting dressed, Harley still hadn't seemed right. Usually she woke up at the exact same time he did, or as she was a light sleeper, she'd hear all the clothes rustling noises going on while he got dressed and it would aggravate her into waking up. Not that morning. She had slept soundly beneath the burrow of sheets, curled up with her legs tucked into her chest, both hands still resting up against her head on the pillow. Even as he stood over her and laughed as a test to see whether she'd smile and suddenly wake, blinking up at him dozily, she never did.

Something was wrong with his girl after the Bat had struck her across the head. Frost had mentioned about taking her to the hospital, that Harley could have endured a concussion, but Joker was reluctant to take her. His Harley, she was strong. She didn't need any doctors. A time in the past came back to him, where Harley had gotten shot in the thigh.

His girl was so tough that she demanded Frost remove the bullet himself and stitch it up. It had been admirable, how she was on that day. Even in pain, she stubbornly refused the hospital. While Jonny had taken his time to sterilize a sharp needle in some alcohol, Harley hadn't even flinched. Using a set of eyebrow tweezers to wedge the bullet out and then cotton to stitch her flesh back up from the wound, she had hardly made a sound, aside from chewing on a piece of gum noisily.

He was sure that was how it would be now. Once he got home, Harley would feel better. She probably just needed to sleep the blow to the head off, then she'd be up and running for tomorrow to do her part in the club. His girl, she'd be up and running in no time, carrying on with her business. He was sure of it.

Still, perhaps it wouldn't do any harm in checking right now? Where he lived with Harley, it was only a block away from the club anyway. And it wasn't like Frost had anything better to do, seeing as he was just standing there. Joker had his gun concealed beneath his tuxedo jacket, and a pocketknife tucked in his sock, concealed by his pant leg. He would be fine in defending himself.

"Jonny." He made the sign, wiggling his forefinger carelessly at where Frost stood behind him. When he sensed Jonny had moved closer, he said, "I want ya to go check on Harley, see how she's doing. Then come back here."

"Got it, Boss."

He watched Frost leave through the back door briskly, and he laughed to himself over the noise of the loud music in the club. Frost was so loyal. He trained him well.

It took Frost fifteen minutes to return. Joker had found himself becoming agitated to hear word of his girl's state and whether her headache had gone. He'd checked the multiple gold Rolex watches on his wrists at least twenty times since Jonny had left to go check on her. He'd even stood up and sat back down on the cushioned sofa, only to stand up and sit back down again. He was never too fond of waiting.

He growled to himself, unsettled when he caught the look on Frost's face once he strode past the crowd towards him to report on Harley. Jonny looked apprehensive, as though he was dreading what he was about to have to tell him.

"Well? How is she?" He demanded once Frost reached his side.

Frost paused, and when Joker turned his head to look up at him in warning, he heard the henchman swallow loudly. "It's really... strange. I'm not too sure I can explain without you going to see her yourself."

Joker crinkled his forehead at him, making a noise in confusion. Then he noticed the mark on Frost's forehead, what seemed like a pen mark. Or... lipstick? Had Harley kissed him? Had he gone up there and then fooled around with his girl? Surely not. If it was any other man, Joker wouldn't have hesitated twice to shoot him. But this was Frost, and he would give him the benefit of the doubt. Frost and Harley getting together, it was impossible. Unlikely.

Joker yanked up his trouser pants before standing to his full height, meeting Frost's eyes. Up closer the way he was, he almost made a noise of sheer relief when it occurred to him with such clarity that the mark was not actually lipstick after. It was... paint or one of their drawing pens they had in the apartment. Standing closer, Joker realized too that Frost's usually impeccable suit was ruffled, and even more streaks of colored pens were marring his white shirt. Had a little kiddy drawn on him on the way over to see his girl?

"You better go see for yourself, J," Frost croaked out, urging him. "Then you'll see what I mean."

Joker grumbled under his breath before running a hand over his hair, flattening down his slick green hair. He hated how Jonny was being so secretive. It was bordering on being irritating. He just wanted him to be straightforward and tell him what was happening with his Harley. But following the man's pleas, Joker shoved a hand into his tuxedo jacket, double-checking his gun was still in his holster before he left the club, Frost following behind him.

Once they reached the apartment, Joker was about to bust his way in before Jonny stopped him. He spun around to look at him questioningly. Usually Jonny didn't do that.

"Just wait," Frost croaked out nervously. "You got to do the secret knock."

Secret knock? What was he playing at?

Curling his hand into a fist, Frost knocked the solid wood four times. Then as he reached down and turned the doorknob, Joker finally heard his girl.

"Who there?" she called, only her voice wasn't how it usually was. It was babyish, high-pitched. "Knock, knock. Who there?" He heard her laughter.

"It's me, Frost. Your new friend. I have another friend with me. Mind if we both come in?"

He heard Harley make a loud thoughtful, indecisive noise, and then Joker decided he'd had enough of this. Whatever games Frost and his girl were playing, he'd had enough. Pushing past Jonny and shoving him out of the way, Joker pushed inside, searching for Harley. When he found her, his red lips stretched back into a relieved, happy grin. She was awake, but she was currently huddled by their coffee table, staring intently at it while she drew on the wood with a colored pen furiously.

Her blonde, red and blue hair was straggly and messy from being bedridden all day. The previous make-up she had worn last night was smeared, eye-shadow streaking beneath both eyes. She looked somehow fragile and small, the way she was sitting with her bare legs tucked in beneath her by the coffee table, her lips pursed as she concentrated on her drawing. Small and fragile, Joker knew she was anything but, though that seemed the appropriate way to describe her then, in her underwear and one of her T-shirts.

Then she looked up, alerted to someone else's presence in the room. Her reaction to him was not something he was expecting. Her blue eyes widened, her mouth fell open. Usually, first instance she saw him, she'd shout 'Puddin' and welcome him home, planting a few eager kisses on him. Not now. She dropped the colored pen, pushing back on her palms, scooting away from the coffee table, pushing back with her bare feet until her back collided with the wall behind her. Then something else caught her attention, and her wide, frenzied eyes glanced behind him.

Jonny.

"Harleen, this is a friend of mine. He's real... nice, despite how he looks."

Harleen? She hadn't gone by the name Harleen in years.

Joker watched as her eyes darted to him again. She looked at him as though she wasn't sure how to react to him, the muscles in her neck twitching as she swallowed loudly, her face shaking. He saw fear in her eyes due to his startling appearance. There was a lack of recognition there, like she didn't remember who he was. Like she didn't remember who he was to her.

"Who you?" The instance it left her mouth, it was like music to his ears. At least she was speaking to him, though he wasn't sure what was going on.

"Like I said, he's a good friend of mine," Jonny spoke before Joker could get a word out, irritating him. Frost was speaking to her in a gentle, soft voice, as though she were something easily timid. Which Joker knew for a fact she wasn't. Timid and Harley in the same sentence was not right. "He's... a real good guy. You can trust him, because he's a friend of mine. He's fine."

She tilted her head and eyed him.

"Green." She stated in a matter-of-fact, surprised voice. "Ya hair is green. Green is a color."

Though adorable as it was, Joker was growing tired of the game. He and Harley liked playing their games, but usually, their games did not consist of him being excluded. To show he got the joke, Joker tilted his head back, letting a laugh float out into the air. A piercing, blood-curdling noise cut him off, halfway. He wasn't even sure where that noise had come from, until he realized it came from Harley.

She was screaming.

She had screamed, and he clenched his mouth shut in astonishment, watching her as she cowered by the wall, both hands flying up to cover her ears at the sound of his laugh. It was the most strangest sight he had ever seen in his entire life. Usually Harley laughed along with him. She did not scream or cower or cover her ears, shaking by the wall.

He cleared his throat, giving her a desperate "Sssh, ssh, sssh" in response.

Ignoring Jonny behind him, he got down on his knees, crouching on the carpet a while away from her. Harley watched him, her eyes fear-stricken, wet. Slowly, seeing that he wasn't laughing anymore, she brought her hands away from her ears, watching him. Satisfied, he tried not to grin as he lifted both hands in the air, showing her the sign of peace, that he had no weapons and he had no intentions of hurting her. All Harley did was stare at him as though everything he did both confused and scared her.

"Ya playing a game, hmm?" he asked her, his voice throaty, strained. "We playing a game now, baby? What game is this one?"

When he bent one knee forward to approach her, she threw her arms over her head, shielding her face in her hands. He could hear faintly Frost warning him, that she was different, that he shouldn't try getting any closer just yet, but Joker ignored him, keeping his eyes on nothing else but Harley's thin arms as he edged closer and closer on the carpet, feeling very much like an excited dog circling in on his prey.

"Ya know how I love my games, baby," he muttered, grinning, as he listened to her heavy breathing.

Reaching out with his hand, his fingers were just an inch away from brushing her ankle when the noise she made caused him to stop. A heart-wrenching sobbing noise came from her, and Harley's entire body shook. He hadn't heard her cry in a long time.

"I... I don't like him," she got out through her arms, then another long sob came from her. "I... I don't want him comin' any closer. He's scary!" Her body shook again as she cried.

Though Joker always believed he didn't necessarily have a heart with feelings, he was feeling it now. He reared back, sitting back on his haunches. Her words were a taunt, echoing in his brain. He was scary? She didn't like him because he was scary? Since when did his Harley find him scary?

"Ya look like a clown, Mister." He almost grumbled in sadness as she sniffled loudly, dropping one arm to wipe her running nose along it. Her blue eyes were filled with tears and pain, as she stared back at him. "I... I don't like clowns!"

"Oh, but I ain't a clown," he said. He still couldn't tell whether this was a game or not. She was acting like a fearful little girl. "This is just how Daddy looks. See?"

He watched her, panting eagerly, while she finally removed her arms to look at him fully. Her nose was running, tear tracks on her cheeks.

"Why ya wearing lipstick for?" she mumbled softly, her eyebrows creasing in confusion. "Lipsticks for girls? My daddy never wore lipstick. Mommy always taught me it was for girls."

Joker was too wrapped up on listening to her, in finding some reasonable explanation, that he jumped when Frost laid a hand on his shoulder, clenching down. "She's not acting the same as she usually is," Frost said in his ear quietly. "Now, I don't know if it had something to do with what happened last night, with the kick to the head from Batman, but... I think its a real possibility that the reason she ain't acting the same is all because the kick did something to her brain."

Throughout Jonny's words, Joker brought his hand up to his mouth, covering it so she could see the back of it, the smiley tattoo on his knuckles. He wanted to see what her reaction to it would be. Much to his pleasure, she didn't disappoint. Sniffling again, she lifted a hand, wiping her cheeks of tears as she stared at him. Then, slowly, the fear disappeared from her eyes, replacing with mirth and childish humor instead. When Harley finally giggled while wiping the snot off her nose with her hand, Joker felt his heart soar at the sound.

"It's like she's gone back a few steps. Like she's acting like a child. I think maybe when the Batman kicked her, it knocked her brain, doing some pretty serious damage. I think that's why she's acting this way. Maybe the trauma was so big to her brain that she's reverted into a little girl again mentally?"

Flashes of what he had done to her years ago came back to mind when he slowly removed his hand, grinning back at her when she laughed again, flashing his metal teeth at her. He'd tortured her that time, in giving her electroshock therapy. And now, last night, having been brutally kicked to the head by the Bat. Could Jonny be right? Was that why she was acting the way she was now, with all of her forgetfulness of him and the way she was behaving like a young child? The kick, added with the torture years ago when he'd sizzled her, were affecting her brain?

"Your funny," she said in her high-pitched, babyish voice decidedly, laughter still present in her voice. "Frost and you can be my new friends." As if seeming to get over her wariness of him due to his appearance, Harley slowly moved on all fours towards the coffee table, carefully picking out pen colors. "Ya two can help me draw if ya want to?" she suggested, looking at both of them while she held out two pens. One green, one blue. Then she swung her eyes to Joker. "I'm drawing a castle for a princess, me being the princess." She touched a hand to her chest, her voice going higher with haughtiness. "But only you can have the green. 'Cause green is the color of ya hair so that's what ya gettin'."

Joker thought he could see her as a child. Bossy and privileged, telling other young kids what to do.

When Frost went to accept the blue pen from her, Joker knocked him away with his hand. "Ya gotta go manage the club," he reminded him sternly. "I'll be here. Call me if anything happens."

Frost nodded, bending down to place the blue pen back on the coffee table.

"Ah, Harleen, I've got to go now."

Harley made a deep noise through her throat, a whining, sad noise as she chucked a pen on the floor.

"But you have J to look after you, and like I said, he's a real good friend. You let him know if you need anything, all right?"

"All right," she sang, mocking him.

Joker watched as she kept her eyes fixed on Frost as he left the apartment. When the door shut, she fell back on her knees, frowning glumly. Stuck alone with her now, like this, Joker didn't know what to do. A strange silence fell between them, one that felt awkward. She picked up a pen, drawing circles and strokes on the coffee table again, humming distantly to herself. It sounded like a lullaby, something she had probably had sung to her during her childhood.

"Hey!" Her sharp voice brought him to attention, and she slapped her palm against the coffee table loudly. "Ya gotta start drawing, Mister! Ya gotta put green in!"

Grumbling under his breath at all this mundane kiddy stuff, Joker reluctantly moved closer over the coffee table, and he began drawing with the pen as well, making small strokes in the wood around Harley's picture.

How was he supposed to talk to her while she was like this? And how long would it take for the old Harley to return, the one he liked best, above all else in the world? The one who went on joyrides with him and laughed and killed?

 **If you have any suggestions on what you would like to happen or anything I need work with, let me know. Thanks for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

"Peter Piper." Harley was mumbling to herself incoherently as she drew, her face scrunched as she held it close to the wood of the coffee table while she scribbled with colored pen. Her blue eyes went cross eyed as she giggled to herself. Joker had no idea what she was talking about.

"Hmm?" he grumbled.

"Ya ever heard of Peter Piper, Mister?"

"Who?" he hissed in annoyance.

Already, it was irritating. Joker had only been sitting with his long legs splayed out beneath the coffee table for less than fifteen minutes while throwing random strokes of green pen into Harley's 'picture' and already, he was tiring of it. He felt like hitting his head against the wood savagely. He just wanted his normal Harley back, not this one that seemed... strange.

"Ya know." Inhaling in deeply, Harley let out in a whooshed murmur, "Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers; A peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked; If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, where's the peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked?" At the end of her nonsensical rambling, she giggled again girlishly. "Mommy taught me that one," she added proudly, lifting her blue eyes up to look at him slowly, groggily. Her blinking was slow, the spark to her eyes dull. Then she lifted a hand, covering her mouth, stifling a loud yawn. She asked through a palm muffling her voice, "What's the time, Mr. Wolf?"

Joker clenched the green pen between his fingers tight, willing it to snap. "Hmm?"

"The time? When's my Mommy pickin' me up, huh? 'Cause I gotta go to bed?"

Maybe Jonny was onto something after all? Maybe the Bat did do something to his girl's brain? Brain damage? Memory loss? He wasn't sure what it was.

Harley certainly wasn't acting like her usual self. For one thing, she couldn't seem to remember Joker. She couldn't seem to remember she was a grown woman who didn't rely on Mommy and Daddy anymore.

Joker didn't know how to respond at all. This entire situation, it felt like one huge joke. His patience was wearing thin, and patience had never been his strongest point. "What ya mean?" he demanded in confusion. "Mommy's not coming to pick ya up."

"Huh?" Harley moved her hand slowly from her mouth, blinking at him heavily. It was as if she could barely keep her eyes open. "What ya mean, Mommy's not pickin' me up?" Her voice cracked, as if she was scared. "Mommy's leaving me here, ya mean?" Joker watched as she stared at him, her eyes wide.

Harley always had a way that seemed so seductively innocent. Often, she played on that to get what she wanted, especially when it came to their games. But now? There was nothing seductive about the way she looked. Her nose started running again as she stared into his eyes sadly, her eyes welling over, shining with unshed tears. Tragic. It was tragic, as if she truly was a child.

"Ya live here," he explained bluntly and he gripped the end of the green pen with his other hand, grunting under his breath in happiness as it made a cracking noise as he snapped it easily in both hands. "This is ya home." He chucked the two halves of the pen at the table, and he watched Harley flinch and recoil back as the pieces ricocheted to the floor. "Ya live here with me. Ya don't live with Mommy anymore." He probably should have been more tactful, more kinder, but he couldn't help it. The way she was being, it was frustrating.

Harley's mouth opened and closed as she moved her eyes slowly around the room, her shoulders trembling slightly. Joker could almost sense her brain working over time as she processed that information in. "Ya mean I don't live with Mommy anymore?" she asked in a small voice once her eyes focused on him again. "I live with you? This is my house?"

"Yeah, this is ya house. There's no Mommy or Daddy anymore."

Sniffling loudly, snot trickling down her upper lip, Harley eyed the room again. Her chin wobbled, as though she was on the verge of crying. Joker hoped she wouldn't; He was never good with all that hormonal girly stuff, especially not the comforting sweet chit-chat whenever Harley was upset when she was her normal self.

When Harley met his gaze again, she cocked her head to the side. She seemed suddenly both teary and shy like a vulnerable, nervous girl.

"Ya gonna put me to bed then?" It was a soft question escaping her lips. "I mean, ya gonna tuck me into bed? My Mommy always does?"

The idea of doing something so banal in tucking Harley into bed, it grated on him. But seeing as she wasn't herself and it would probably make her feel better, whatever it was she was going through, Joker nodded with a reluctant sigh. He stood from the coffee table and after watching him wearily, Harley followed slowly behind him as he showed her to where their bedroom was. Just as she had left it last night and that morning, the blinds were still drawn. The bed was still messy and unmade, pillows and sheets strewn everywhere.

Unsure of what to do, Joker waved towards the bed awkwardly. "Well, there's ya bed."

He watched Harley rock back and forth on her bare feet as an excited noise escaped her throat. She clasped both hands together in front of her, twisting her wrists like an overexcited girl for candy. "Oh, wow," she very nearly shouted. "That's my bed? All for me?"

Before Joker could actually clarify that it was _his_ bed as well that they shared together, he startled and stepped back when Harley suddenly made a loud squealing noise again, jumping up and down on her feet. She shoved past him, prancing towards their double-bed. He watched, grumbling under his breath in annoyance at how his ears were still hurting from her idiotic screaming as she leaped up, diving belly first onto the bed, kicking the mattress with her slender legs akimbo and flying everywhere.

"I'm the luckiest girl in the world!" He heard her laugh gleefully as she flopped over onto her back, kicking the sheets around, her long blonde, red and blue-tipped hair coming loose in wayward strands around her. "I bet nobody at school has their very own big, big bed like a big girl does, Mister! I'm a princess!"

Joker stood around uncertainly in the center of the room until Harley's childish excitement over the bed seemed to have died down. She yawned again tiredly, her legs still from their frenetic movement on the mattress. He tongued around his grill when she stared at him, blowing out a breath through her lips, making her cheeks puff out.

"Well, ya gonna tuck me in or what?"

"Ah..." He moaned out reluctantly, then he slowly came closer.

She laid back against the pillow, watching him expectantly as she shoved the blankets down away from her body with her feet. Trying to ignore the impulse he had to smash his head against hers in the hope that it would bring her out of it, Joker gripped the bottom of the sheet and pulled it up, yanking it over her body length-ways. She huffed loudly in what seemed to be a content mood over the warmth. He could feel her eyes digging holes into his head.

It was unbearable, everything Harley was making him do. But he knew she was not quite herself. Hopefully once she did return to herself again, all memories of this would be magically erased so she wouldn't know about it. The things he did only for her. It was embarrassing.

"There we go," he said softly, purposefully avoiding her gaze.

"So this is my house now, huh?" Her voice was so low, so quiet, Joker almost wondered if he was imagining her saying it. But she was saying it, and her eyes flew around the ceiling, a puzzled expression on her face. "I live here and I don't live with Mommy anymore? Why I live here with you and not Mommy?"

 _Because your my girl,_ he wanted to snap at her. _You live with me now because you're my girl._

Only when he risked a look up at her face, the way she looked, so curious, so harmless, it made his heart ache. He hated how she was capable of making him feel. He didn't understand it half the time and yet, somehow, Harley was capable of making him feel the most strangest, sickest, tenderest feelings.

He tongued around his metal teeth again. "'Cause ya just do," he settled on.

"Has Mommy gone some place or somethin'?"

He really wished she would stop talking about 'Mommy'. He felt inept with how to deal with it.

A flicker of irritation coursed through him, but he tried to keep his voice one level, "Ya just live with me."

"How long I been livin' here for?"

He sighed through his nostrils, gritting his teeth. How long had it been now? "Five years."

Harley's forehead creased as she seemed to think that heavily through. Then she yawned again loudly.

"Are you my babysitter or somethin'?"

 _Babysitter!_

When all she did was blink at him, her eyelids growing heavy, Joker finally left the room, feeling useless and unsure of what to do with himself. Usually, he slept in the same bed as Harley, but that was probably out of the question with how she was being now.

In all his pent-up confusion and rage, he did the only thing he could do as a coping strategy. He found a wall in the room, and he jerked his head forward, a thud sounding as he hit himself squarely in the forehead with it. The pain that tore through him over it was so good, so relieving, all he could do was laugh.

He really didn't know how to handle this situation at all.

LHLHLH

He sat on the floor, staring up at the random space on the wall; the same space the Joker had been staring at for a countless amount of time now. He could feel his body shutting down, the hours turning late into the morning. His eyes grew heavy, blurry from tiredness. The carpet was not the most comfortable place to sit on. He could feel his back beginning to ache already.

Half-drunk with sleep, he forgot himself. Staggering to his feet clumsily, he kicked off his shoes, padding into the bedroom in his socks. His groggy brain processed that Harley was sleeping in bed; He could see the faint outline of her body beneath the sheets.

Dead tired and incoherent, he pulled back the sheets and sat at the corner of the mattress, yanking his tuxedo jacket off. A sigh left his mouth in happiness as he shoved himself under the sheets, the immediate warmth filling his bones. He turned on his side, leaning against Harley's back, nuzzling his nose into the strands of her hair resting against his pillow.

Then it happened. It happened so suddenly, it immediately roused him out of his half-asleep stupor, startling him. Harley made a loud, uncomfortable noise as she jerked awake, sitting up. He could hardly see her through the dark shadows in the bedroom as she shivered, hugging herself tightly in her small T-shirt with her arms.

"Eww," he heard her exclaim loudly in distaste. "Gross, Mister! What ya doin' in _my_ big bed?"

Blinking sleepily, his mind put two and two together then. Oh, of course. Harley wasn't herself right now.

"Ya can't sleep in bed with me, Mister! Boys have cooties! Don't ya know that? Gross!"

Grumbling loudly, he climbed out of bed hastily, ignoring the aching twang in his back from being on the carpet before.

What he'd give to have his Harley back again.

 _Hope this was okay? Too silly? Hope it amuses you anyway._


End file.
